Summary: A pre-movie oneshot in which the music is blaring, poker is played, and Riley struggles with some communication issues at a local restaurant. All in all, just another day. Rated primarily for some references to alcohol. Enjoy the randomness!
Disclaimer: I admit I'm having a lot of fun with these characters, but they still aren't mine, nor is anything else I may happen to reference here below.
Author's Note: After the encouraging response to my last fic, "Fearless Leader", I've decided to continue along these same lines of exploring the "bad guys" from NT1, who have always been my favorite characters despite the fact that the movie didn't really give much attention to their development. And I've always enjoyed finding fics that give us brief glimpses of these guys during a regular routine rather than in the middle of a treasure hunt, so that's what this story is dedicated to entirely. Many thanks to Torilei and others who have helped contribute their ideas! So I admit it's random, but hopefully you'll be as thoroughly entertained by reading it as I was writing it. Enjoy!
A Day in the Life of Ian's Henchmen
The day begins much like any other. Ian, ever the disciplined one, is first to rise. The house is silent and still as he leisurely showers and readies himself to greet the day. He even has time to make some headway in his current reading project, a denouncement of liberal fascism, before turning on the pot of coffee that he knows will gradually bring the others to their senses.
Now it might seem strange to some that five grown, able-bodied men would voluntarily choose to share one residence, but not to them. They get along well enough, and the abode offers ample space for their line of work, which would have brought them all together on a daily basis regardless. And so convenience is clearly the main reason for their accommodations – although the fact that Ian has rented the place and the rest of them don't have to pay a dime doesn't exactly hinder their approval of the situation.
The amazing thing, really, is how these five individuals from four different countries and with all different backgrounds have come together and become a force to truly be reckoned with. The man responsible, of course, is Ian Howe. It was he who found them and recruited them for their unique talents one by one over the years, until the team was deemed complete three years ago with the addition of Phil, the only American among them. But without Ian, these men surely would have never met one another; without him, there is little else to hold them together.
The next to wake is Powell, whom age has taught to rise with the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee. But being rather less tactful than his employer, the commotion of his morning routine rouses the man resting in the next room. Shaw is a light sleeper by nature, a fact for which Ian has been grateful on more than one occasion throughout their past endeavors, and it is rare that he can ignore Powell's blundering about in the early hours of the day.
By the time they both get downstairs, Ian is already settled in with a delicious breakfast of eggs Benedict, and the usual morning pleasantries are exchanged while the two new arrivals pour themselves generous cups of coffee. Ian, however, will not touch the stuff; he still prefers his British tea. Powell heads reluctantly to the pantry for a box of cereal, knowing all the while that he'll just be hungry again an hour later, while Shaw digs into the cold pizza leftover from last night with relish. He stands up to the counter to eat, not even bothering to come sit down at the table with the rest of them.
They eat in silence for a time until Powell, a loyal fan of the Rolling Stones from the very beginning, turns on the kitchen radio so that "Sympathy for the Devil" soon fills the house. A fitting tune, one must admit; but then Phil staggers in, groggy-eyed and clad only in a pair of old sweatpants. No surprise to the rest of them, he at once begins grumbling about how he can't stand Mick Jagger and insisting that if they must make a racket at such an unearthly hour in the morning, they could at least do so with something "classic" like ACDC or Guns 'N Roses. He then seeks to demonstrate his point by changing the musical selection, but Powell's seniority, along with Ian's overall indifference, ensures that the Stones are there to stay. Shaw offers his support as well by physically restraining the youngest of their group from reaching the controversial radio.
Finally shaking off Shaw and still muttering under his breath, Phil dejectedly pours himself a glass of milk and grabs half a box of chocolate glazed doughnuts - a typical breakfast. Now it seems that at least once a day, one of his colleagues will admonish him about the long-term health hazards of such a sugar-filled diet, let alone the tremendous caloric intake; and today it's Ian's turn to do so, even as Phil carelessly waves away his well-intentioned warnings of heart disease and diabetes. Once again - typical.
Far too often for his own liking, Ian feels much like a father overseeing his children when dealing with some of his co-workers. It's simply a price he has to pay. Never in Shaw's case, though, and for that, Ian is truly grateful.
The last member of the household to stumble miserably down the stairs is Viktor, still more than a tad hung over from the previous night's activities. It's understandable, considering his hard-headed philosophy that there's no point in having a drink at all unless it's "the strong sort of stuff from his homeland;" the bottle of Vodka now sitting empty on the counter stands as irrefutable testimony to that statement.
The Russian native slumps down heavily into a chair at the kitchen table and leans forward with a groan, holding his aching head in his hands. He won't be eating anything for quite some time. Ian only shakes his head, amused, and forks the last bite of his breakfast. He doesn't mind. After all, it's not as though he relies on Viktor for the man's staggering brain power.
Within the following hour, all five men are fully dressed, showered, and shaved - just in time for the last of their colleagues to arrive. Ben Gates strides determinedly up the driveway, and tagging along behind him with his trusty laptop in tow is Riley Poole. Although they've car-pooled together since the beginning of the project, these two still choose to live on their own, apart from the rest. They work quite well with Ian and his associates; but the two groups have only been working together for about a year, and Ben and Riley simply don't share the same closeness as the others, who have already been through hell and high water together in their line of work.
As far as the nature of their work is concerned, there really isn't much to say, except that it's the same sort of thing they've been wrestling with for the past year. Sadly, the preliminary work of treasury hunting is not nearly as exciting as the hunt itself. Unless you're Benjamin Franklin Gates, of course, and the endless hours of researching and forcing oneself to think outside the box are what you thrive on. Ian is almost as obsessive as his new partner and every bit as focused, but the same cannot always be said of the rest of his men.
Lunch is Chinese ordered in, second only to pizza as a main staple of their diet. Shaw places the order over the phone, an assortment of everything from egg-drop soup to fried rice, from Kung Pao chicken to beef and broccoli. He knows what they all like by now. After hanging up, he tosses Ben's car keys to Riley and instructs him to "go fetch." Poor unfortunate Riley is at first stunned into silence, shocked by the thought that they could possibly function without him for half an hour, but there is little sympathy from the others - only complaints of hunger and demands that he be quick.
Although Riley is loath to go, it does not take long for him to reach the group's favorite Chinese restaurant. Once inside, he makes one vain attempt to claim the order under Shaw's or Ian's name. He should know better. Not once has Shaw placed his order under a normal name, mostly because he knows Riley will be the one sent to get it. That's when the fun begins.
With a long-suffering sigh, Riley starts running through a mental list of possibilities, everything from Austin Powers to the Godfather. For some, like Darth Vader, he even tries to act out the part in order to better communicate the idea, but that only succeeds in earning him many a blank stare from other people in the restaurant. The poor workers attempting to decipher his fantastic code are especially dazed. Finally, after more guesses at James Bond, Edward Hyde, the Joker, and Spongebob Squarepants, Riley hits home with "Abe Froman, the Sausage King of Chicago." Despite his extreme annoyance, he cannot help but note, impressed, that Shaw's movie knowledge is expanding beyond British films and dumb cartoons.
Looking somewhat like a demented Christmas tree with bags of food dangling precariously from his extended limbs, Riley tip-toes back to the car and heads for home. At long last, lunch is served! The highlight of the meal is undoubtedly the fortune cookies; they advise Shaw to "be wary of heights," caution Ian that "things are not always what they seem," remind Riley not to underestimate "the strength of friendship," and reveal that Ben "will soon encounter a beautiful stranger." Then it's back to the grindstone.
At approximately three o'clock in the afternoon, the crew's work comes to a grinding halt when they encounter yet another piece of the historical puzzle that stumps even Ben and Ian's combined intellects. They all know it to be a temporary setback, as such stumbling blocks are nothing new in this house. But experience has also taught them that there are ways to help the process along, and Phil wordlessly brings out his acoustic guitar, gently strumming it in a manner wholly unlike the music he chooses to listen to.
But before it can be determined if the soft music is actually helping this time as it has before, the serenity of the room is broken by a soft snoring, and a quick role call reveals that Viktor has dozed off on the couch, unnoticed by the rest of them until now. Ian rolls his eyes. How pathetic. Shaw and Powell exchange wickedly mischievous grins, for it's at times like this that Phil's music is actually of some use to them. The younger man slips away to retrieve his I-Pod, and drawing heavily from Riley's favorite scene in "Back to the Future," they gingerly set both headphones in Viktor's ears. Powell gives them a thumbs-up to signify all is ready, and when Phil pushes "play," the screaming electric maelstrom that is Eddie Van Halen's "Eruption" blasts into the sleeper's eardrums.
Viktor jolts awake and rips out the headphones in a panic, while Shaw adds the perfect finishing touch of whacking him upside the head with a throw pillow. The others laugh at his misfortune, and Ben suddenly exclaims with a wide grin that the diversion's helped him remember something that will aid them in their latest dilemma. The remainder of the afternoon passes without incident.
Dinner is always an interesting experience. Ben and Ian both agree that home-cooked food is preferable to and by all means healthier than constantly eating out, but even in their diverse group of seven, the only ones with any real experience or interest in cooking are Powell and Riley. Riley takes a brief break late in the afternoon to scour the internet for a decent recipe to try, but everything he finds requires ingredients not to be found in their poorly-stocked kitchen. The others truly couldn't care less about it, though; they'll eat virtually anything that's put in front of them.
In the end, Powell intervenes with a decision to fire up the grill and cook out - hamburgers, hot dogs, and the like. But even that begins as a lost cause with the realization that they have no charcoal for the grill, and once again, Riley is sent out on an urgent food errand. Thankfully, he makes it back quickly and efficiently this time, with no communication troubles whatsoever, and the meal is served in a somewhat timely manner.
Once a group effort has haphazardly cleared away the mess of dinner, Phil and Shaw head down to the basement for a much-desired workout while Riley, Powell, and Viktor settle into the living room in front of the TV. Ben and Ian, still the disciplined ones, remain seated at the kitchen table, too engrossed in whatever they're researching on Ian's laptop to notice that the others have deserted them.
Meanwhile, the three men in the living room flip through channels with little enthusiasm until Powell finally suggests they watch a movie instead - namely, "Monty Python and the Holy Grail." The others readily concur, and before long, Viktor is laughing inanely about the moose who bit the narrator's sister. Soon after, Riley quotes along word for word with the swallow and coconut skit, and Powell laughs aloud at the scene with the Black Knight - his personal favorite. Even Ian chuckles softly to himself in the other room when the French taunting can be heard. In all fairness, it's probably Ian who can best appreciate the more intelligent British humor.
When Phil and Shaw return from downstairs, sweaty and slightly winded, Shaw teasingly berates Powell for watching the same movie for the dozenth time this month. Phil is just glad not to have missed the part at Castle Anthrax.
Finally, the end is in sight as our five knightly heroes reach the Bridge of Death, and Sir Galahad is lost when he cannot correctly recall his favorite color. Shaw, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, remarks casually to the others that Viktor would probably struggle with that question, as well. Almost immediately, the fight is on.
Riley glances nervously over at Phil and Powell, knowing that he himself is quite powerless to break up the skirmish an uncomfortably short distance away, but neither of the two men make any move to intervene. After all, such outbursts are not uncommon here, and no harm will be done. Unless, of course, one of them accidentally kicks over another lamp like Phil once did.
By the time Shaw finally has Viktor trapped in an inescapable headlock, the movie is over, and they all know without announcement that it's time for cards. Poker has become quite the tradition in this house, and the seven of them play almost every night. Even Ben and Ian admit that it's time to call it a day and join the others around the large dining room table. If nothing else, the game is an excellent way for these colleagues to bond and strengthen their friendships.
As usual, Riley humorously suggests they try something different for a change, like Go-Fish, but one stony glare from Ian silences him on the subject. Ben is once again anxious to regain some of his grievous losses from last night's game and thus redeem himself, but by now, the others have come to expect his poor bluffing abilities. The musical selection now is Viktor's choice - a string composition by Tchaikovsky. (Don't worry, the rest of them haven't figured it out, either.) But having not yet fully recovered from last night's spirits, he wisely declines any and all alcohol this evening, with many an "Oh noh" to emphasize the point.
As one might imagine, Ian usually fares best in this activity, and tonight is no exception. Within the hour, most of them are on their second beer, and already their fearless leader has them all wondering how much longer they'll be able to stay in the game. Riley never has taken the game too seriously, so it's no surprise when he's the first to run out of chips. Ben and Viktor are the next to go, the former for lack of skill and the latter for lack of concentration.
Ben then utilizes the remainder of the game as an opportunity to study Ian's tactics, but the Englishman is simply unreadable. His posture, facial expression, and conversation betray nothing about the quality of his cards; and like all proficient poker players, he never shows his cards if the rest of them fold, so that they'll never know whether or not he was bluffing.
Powell is the next one out after betting everything he has to call Ian's bluff. Only this time it's no bluff, and Phil and Shaw alone remain to challenge the champion. Shaw has the better chance of doing so, as he's known Ian considerably longer than any of the others, and Phil's gotten this far in the game by being fairly conservative. But Ian is too much of a master, and neither of them stand a chance when he's dealt a perfect full house, queens over aces.
The game is soon ended, and because it's late, they actually do agree to humor Riley with a few rounds of Go-Fish, if for no other reason than the hope that Ian might no longer be invincible. And sure enough, it's Riley who wins this time, with Ian managing a close second. He claims he can still read their reactions and body language to get a clue of what cards they might have, evoking nervous chuckles from the rest of them.
It's just shy of midnight when things finally wind down. Ben and Riley bid their farewells before driving off together, knowing they'll just be back again in about ten hours, and Shaw actually begins to clear the card table, surprising them all with his sudden cleanliness. There are plenty more jokes and good-natured ribbings about the night's events as they finally head upstairs, especially over how they had caught Shaw cheating at Go-Fish.
Powell once again turns on the Rolling Stones as they all prepare for bed, and Phil blissfully retreats to his I-Pod where Metallica awaits him. It takes a while before all is quiet in the house, but when peaceful silence finally reigns supreme, Ian is the only one still awake, squeezing in time for a few more pages in his book while the others argue over time in the bathroom. It's a good thing they at least wake up on different schedules.
At last, Ian turns off the neglected radio and is last to crawl into bed, tired but happy with the day's work. He's checked to make sure the place is secure before retiring; although, considering the inhabitants, one would have to be a complete idiot to try to break into this particular home. A pen and notepad are on his headboard within arm's reach, as many of his best ideas have come in those last waking moments just before falling asleep. It's always a pleasant surprise for Gates in the morning.
Ian Howe falls asleep with a contented smile on his face, and so the day ends. Much like any other.
Author's End Note : Well, there you have it. Utter randomness, I know, but I do hope it made you smile! And my apologies if you're not a fan of Monty Python - I guess you would've been kinda lost at that part, huh? But that is one of my favorite movies, and I just couldn't resist the perfect opportunity to throw it in there, lol. Ttyl, everyone!